


Disorder

by CrumblingAsh



Series: ScienceBros Week Collection [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Tony, Corruption, First Meetings, Hero Bruce, Heroes and Villains, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Protective Bruce, Sassy Bruce, The world is a little fucked up, Tony Being Tony, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Villain Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 23:50:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15448602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrumblingAsh/pseuds/CrumblingAsh
Summary: Officially, it's called the Threat Neutralization and Rehabilitation Act of 2010, where the World Peace Union brings in any persons exhibiting signs of villainous tendencies, places them in secure and monitored housing, and assigns a hero to keep an eye on them.It sounds fair. It even sounds nice.Just like everything else does on paper.





	Disorder

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt: "genius"**

* * *

 

 

Tony is already ranting before he even opens the door.

“Nope. You are not here right now. Do not pass Go, do not collect two-hundred dollars, don’t even touch the board! How the fuck – I haven’t even finished it yet, there’s no way you know about it already!”

Standing precariously on the uncovered, tiny cement porch, hands stuffed in his pockets and hair flat from the rain, Steve stares down at him, solemn expression quickly morphing into the exasperated resignation look Tony is far more familiar with.

“… you don’t even know what I’m talking about,” he realizes. Damn, he needs more coffee. Like, yesterday. He’s not awake enough to deal with Captain fucking America right now. “Okay, cool, let’s start over. Hi, Cap, crappy weather we’re having. It’s nice to see you, glad you dropped by, but unfortunately, I’m a little busy right now. Should’ve called ahead, sorry-.”

“Is it going to kill anyone?” The blonde interrupts dryly, skating over his words. It’s not an accusation, but Tony sputters in offense anyway.

“No! Kill anyone, what? I’m sorry, have we not met? I don’t _kill people_ , Captain-.”

“Is it going hurt anyone, then?”

“No!-”

“Cause a plague? Sterilize half the population? Blow up skyscrapers in the middle of rush hour on a Tuesday?”

Tony stares at him. “... Are you even allowed to be asking me these questions in public?”

“Nope! Gonna let me in?”

Steve’s face morphs into a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and it sends a shudder of unease through Tony’s body that he firmly ignores. With a put-upon sigh that’s only slightly heartfelt and overly-pronounced, he pushes the door open further and steps aside. “I’m not technically allowed to refuse you, so I guess if you must.”

Steve ducks his head as he brushes past him, but Tony still sees the smile fall into a frown, and his eyebrows crinkle together to form one of his own as he closes the door and twists the lock.

“So what’s up, Freezer-Pop?” he calls as he follows the other man into his tiny living room. It’s always a somewhat hilarious sight, seeing too-big Captain America trying to make space for himself in this small house. “You clearly didn’t know about my latest project – which I’m not telling you anything else about, I don’t do episode spoilers – so that’s not why you’re out in the rain. The next wellness check” (he manages not to flinch or snarl over the term, go him, he totally deserves points for that) “isn’t scheduled until the weekend. And obviously, going by the look on your face and a distinct lack of DVDs in your hands, you’re not here for one of your “keep Tony from becoming a supervillain by aggressively spending ‘bro-time’ with him” social visits, so.” He flops down carelessly on the old floral couch and ignores the lightning bolt of pain that shoots through his chest at the jarring motion, instead staring at his guest, who is unnaturally looking to the floor, hands still in his pockets. “Talk? Or you can mime. But no interpretive dance today, I don’t have enough caffeine in me to translate your weird moves.”

The floor creaks weakly as Steve shifts his weight from one foot to another.

Seconds tick by where he says nothing.

And then, “There’s been … a situation at the WPU Headquarters.” A shaky breath. “I’m being reassigned.”

… oh.

His body freezes almost instantly, gaze slipping through Steve to hit the wall behind him, blood suddenly racing through his veins fast enough to roar.

“Tony?”

Life like this sucks. It does. It’s stifling and chafing and sometimes horrifically dull, but it’s not as draining now as it had been at the beginning. There are some days that he still loses in a lumpy mattress and thoughts that bounce of bare walls, but more often than not, lately, there’s been … a spark of something that makes his mind wake up and drive him from bed. Captain America is a self-righteous asshole and the civilized world’s most beloved hero, but _Steve_ has been the kindest thing the WPU has done for him since they’d dragged him from his workshop in handcuffs last year. The ones before Steve – other world-wide adored heroes – they’d only seen the bracelet around his ankle as proof that they were just better than him, proof that he wasn’t allowed to fight back, that they could say or do anything they wanted to him and would be without consequence so long as they didn’t break his skin.

_(“Sad, isn’t it? This program buys you time, but it won’t save the world from you.”)_

“Tony.”

_(“It’s in your brain, Stark. Eventually, you’ll destroy everything.”)_

“Tony, it’s okay-.”

_(“It’s not a matter of if, but when. You’ll do it. You’re fucking wired to.”)_

A large hand abruptly drops heavily onto his shoulder, thick fingers digging through flesh to grip around the bone, pressing in on the sliver of metal kept so carefully hidden beneath his shirt. The pressure, though painless, yanks at him, dragging his vision back into his eyes in shock.

“Breathe,” the man insists. Tony blinks – Steve’s face is suddenly too close to his.

_(“Don’t you think it’s a waste of time, having me come here to watch you when you’re just going to crack anyway?”)_

“Tony, **breathe**.” An edge of _Captain_ slides into plea, morphing it into a command that burns irritation into his teeth. “Just breathe-.”

“I am breathing!” It would probably sound more believable if it hadn’t come out on the tails of a hard gasp that his lungs immediately try to replace. Instantly, the tight grip slackens, the fingers withdrawing their claw-like hold to instead swirling gentle circles into his aching shoulder, and while it’s no doubt meant to soothe, it just makes the irritation burn more. “Jesus, Rogers, back off!” he hisses, curling in and away from the fingers. “I’m fine.”

The blonde steps back immediately, far enough out of Tony’s space that the rush of panic spinning in his stomach slows down. There’s no hurt expression on his face, no frown of annoyance or twisted brow of pity. But there is a look in his eyes that raises Tony’s hackles. Captain America lives a life of luxury and swims in the love and indulgence of the people every time he steps outside, there’s no way in hell that he can possibly understand an ounce of what Tony’s been through – what he’s going to go through again because of this stupid reassignment.

“Tony,” Steve says softly. His hands twitch like they want to reach out again, and he stuffs them back into his pockets. _Good_. “It’s not going to be like it was before.”

“Yeah.” He scoffs. It burns his throat. “Right. We’ve talked about the naïve thing, Capsicle. It’s not as cute as they tell you it is.”

(“ _I could be out saving people. People who are dying because I’m here with you.”)_

“It _won’t_ be.” Steve inches forward again. He’s still wearing that stupid sincere expression. “I had a talk with the council members, I got to have some say in who would replace me. He’s a good guy, Tony.”

“You’re all ‘good guys’, Rogers,” he says with a sneer that immediately exhausts him. “That’s the problem.”

He drops his chin and looks to the carpet, brown and old and coated with dirt and dust he’s never vacuumed up, taking in a deep breath that stretches his lungs too far. The twenty-first century has been built off the concept of good, innocent, and bad – and everyone will always listen to the good guys. A bad guy cries foul and not one person doesn’t assume it’s the beginnings of a plot to destroy something.

_(“You’re already making things worse without even trying.”)_

He’s _tried._

“I know.”

Startled, Tony looks back up.

Steve hasn’t moved closer, hands still in his pockets, eyes still holding that damn understanding. But his eyebrows are drawn together tightly, jaw clenching in pulses that grind his teeth together almost audibly. He almost looks like he wants to say something that he knows he shouldn’t, and for a second, Tony thinks he might.

But then Steve’s shoulders drop.

_(“Don’t you care?”)_

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> [talk at me on tumblr](http://ashnapalm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
